


10 Lords a Leaping

by treya_barton



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treya_barton/pseuds/treya_barton
Summary: Mikleo is asked to attend the yearly Twelfth Night Masquerade Ball held by the royal family in Ladylake.  When he reluctantly arrives he encounters the Lord of Misrule and his Merry Men, the 10 Lords who leap around the Masquerade causing mischief.  Who is the Lord of Misrule and why does he seem to have taken an interest in Mikleo?
Relationships: Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)
Kudos: 40
Collections: Sormik Advent Calendar 2019





	10 Lords a Leaping

Mikleo lightly tapped the thick invitation against his knee as the carriage he had rented brought him through the cobblestone streets of Ladylake. The city now expanded beyond the lake, a stark contrast from when he first visited it after chasing after his best friend all those years ago, and it had turned into a sprawling expanse much closer to the size of Pendrago. The seraph narrowed his eyes in slight irritation as he caught sight of the castle – his final destination. His fingers tightened their grip on the invitation to the yearly Twelfth Night masquerade, the heavy parchment paper crinkling slightly at his touch. The seal of the royal family glistened from the light that filtered in through the curtain window from the streetlights. On the front of the invitation his name was boldly written in a neat hand by the queen herself, a descendant of his old friend Alisha. The young queen was insistent he come to the ball this year, and she had not given him a chance to come up with his usual excuses. His presence was requested – he would see to it he made an appearance.

Mikleo straightened his jacket and re-crossed his legs as he shifted in his seat. He wasn’t a fan of big, showy events like this and never was one for crowds of people. It is why most years he politely declined the invitation. He would get the opportunity to see his friends who had all indicated they would be coming to the masquerade as well, which would be nice since they had all gone their separate ways when their Shephard had gone to sleep; they didn’t often to get to meet up. Mikleo figured he could make his rounds, prove to the queen he had made good on his promise to visit, and then retire early to his usual room he stayed at when visiting the palace.

Once the carriage arrived in the courtyard in front of the palace, Mikleo slipped on his ornate, yet delicate mask before opening the door to the carriage and stepping out before the driver had a chance to open it for him. Mikleo was dressed in the theme of a swan and was wearing a feathered mask lined with gold and pearls with feathers at the top. There was a small gold beak that covered his nose and he had lined his eyes with black, causing the lavender to stand out. His tuxedo jacket appeared to have two feathered wings folded inward down the front, with the same design flowing down the back. His hair was neatly pulled up in a long ponytail as usual, and he looked stunning.

Mikleo let out a small sigh as he saw the people milling about the entrance, several of them looking at him curiously as he tipped the driver as palace servants moved forward to grab his luggage to bring to his room. He then made his way to the stairs, handing his invitation to an attendant before gracefully weaving his way through the crowd, moving at a pace quick enough to avoid idle chatter while he looked around for someone he recognized. He bypassed the ballroom and made his way to the great hall where he was relieved to finally spot someone he knew…even though she often tended to antagonize him. Edna was dressed in a gorgeous black dress, lined with lace and black pearls, and she had on a simple black mask with black lace covering it and a matching umbrella. She was perched on a tall chair while she sipped at a drink. Upon noticing him, Mikleo saw a sly smile cross her eyes, although the rest of her face remained expressionless.

“Meebo, you actually made it this year,” she greeted, and Mikleo shrugged.

“It was not by choice,” he replied. “Hopefully I will be able to greet everyone quickly so I won’t have to be here long.”

Edna tilted her head at him. “I wouldn’t recommend that,” she replied vaguely, and Mikleo raised an eyebrow at her. “Besides, if you want to see _everyone_ …the irritating one won’t be here until later.” She took another sip of her drink while her eyes wandered across the crowd.

“Why is that?” Mikleo asked. To be fair, Zaveid tended to arrive to events whenever he felt like it, but there seemed to be an implied meaning to Edna’s words. Edna choose not to respond, and merely shrugged her shoulders in reply. Mikleo shook his head, before looking around some more. Unfortunately, he did not spot Lailah or any other seraphim he knew, which meant he would have to venture into the ballroom after all. The great hall was already crowded enough.

“I will be by later to make my farewells. Are you also staying the night?” Mikleo asked, and Edna nodded. 

“We all are,” she clarified. “If I don’t see you again tonight we’ll meet up in the morning.” Mikleo knew that while Edna didn’t admit it directly, she missed him and wanted to catch up. He nodded before making his way out to the ballroom, while carefully avoiding the hopeful gazes of other masked guests looking for a dance partner. Mikleo didn’t often dance, and honestly the one person he would truly want to dance with was still fast asleep as he purified the land.

Mikleo shook his head, before looking out across the dance floor. He finally spotted Lailah spinning around in a long white dress with a gold mask while dancing with a seraph Mikleo had met once or twice before. She had angel wings and a halo and Mikleo could not help but think it suited her. The queen, who had similar gold hair and blue eyes to her great grandmother, was seated on a throne and dressed in a rose pink dress lined with lace and rosettes while adorning a similarly decorated mask. She was talking to one of her advisors, so Mikleo didn’t want to intrude. Instead, he carefully made his way to the back of the room, tucking in near one of the doors that led to a more private area, so he could people watch without being disturbed. He wondered how much longer it would be before Zaveid arrived and why Edna had been so mysterious about the man being late.

Fortunately for him, once the song for the current dance finally died down, he received his answer. As the music stopped, everyone in the ballroom began to notice that a commotion had started back in the great hall, and moments later a group of rowdy men rushed into the room, all dressed in green velvet lined with gold, with gold masks with different sized horns branching out on each side. There were ten of them in total leaping about, and there was one in particular that stood out with the largest, most ornate horns and the more heavily embroidered jacket. It was the Lord of Misrule, a young man selected by the queen each year to act as the main entertainment for the evening, and his merry men. One such man had his jacket worn open without a shirt underneath with long hair dancing about him as he flirted with the ladies in the audience; that answered Mikleo’s question as to where Zaveid was.

Honestly, this tradition was the main reason Mikleo avoided this particular masquerade each year; he found the commotion irritating and he didn’t understand the fascination with causing a ruckus every year. He knew it was based on some old human tradition, but while he was normally fascinated with anything related to history, that was one topic he never found himself interested in researching further. Mikleo cast a disdainful eye on the revelers before escaping back into the great hall for a drink. He did not notice the gaze of the Lord of Misrule follow him as he made his escape.

The crowd in the great hall had thankfully thinned out now that the main entertainment had arrived; even Edna was nowhere to be seen. Mikleo made his way over to the wassail to pour himself a glass, while wondering if it would be alright to dip out to his room even though he hadn’t officially greeted the queen yet. He had been hoping to leave before things got too unruly. As he took a sip of the spiced ale, his thoughts were interrupted as he suddenly felt someone tug on his hair, causing him to turn in irritation. He found himself face to face with the Lord of Misrule himself, green eyes laughing as he playfully smiled at him. Mikleo found himself staring, for the eyes that stared out at him behind the hold mask looked strikingly familiar.

He quickly tamped down the hope that formed in his chest, knowing the green eyed man in his heart was far away from here, and instead fixed the Lord of Misrule with an unamused stare. “Don’t you have other people to bother?” he asked, noticing Zavied spying on them at the entrance to the great hall. Upon hearing Mikleo’s words, he began laughing in amusement with his hands on his hips. Fortunately, he was too far away for them to hear clearly and the young man in front of him didn’t appear to notice.

“I believe tonight that is up to me to decide,” the mysterious man replied, mirth evident in his tone. He didn’t seem bothered by Mikleo’s attitude and rather seemed to enjoy it instead. The voice again struck Mikleo as familiar, and he faltered for a moment while giving the Lord of Misrule a confused glance.

‘I must be missing him more than I realized,’ Mikleo rationalized, before turning back to his drink in an attempt to ignore the other man. To his annoyance, his companion didn’t seem to want to give up.

“Would you dance with me?” he asked, and Mikleo sighed before turning around his eyebrows raised.

“You could order me to do that. You are the Lord of the evening,” he pointed out, trying to ignore the butterflies that formed in his stomach at the warm smile that graced the other man’s face. It had been a long time since he felt anything akin to that, and it unsettled him.

“I would rather it be by choice,” he replied. “It is no fun if you’re forced to join in!”

“I am afraid I will have to decline,” Mikleo replied coolly, before bowing his head as a farewell before walking away, making his way over to Zaveid who looked disappointed by the outcome of their conversation.

“Mik-boy, you can be a cruel man sometimes,” he said, before clapping his hand on Mikleo’s shoulder. He pointed over to the Lord of Misrule, who was standing thoughtfully where Mikleo had left him. He looked more puzzled than upset, but it didn’t stop Zaveid from trying to make Mikleo feel ashamed. “Look at him, pouting like a puppy. You know, it couldn’t hurt you to entertain the kid for one measly dance.”

“One measly dance would be a whole half hour of my time,” Mikleo stiffly replied. “Besides, you know how much I hate this tradition. I am surprised at you taking part – it is usually a human endeavor.”

“Sometimes I like to have a little fun,” Zaveid replied with a twinkle in his eye. He looked behind Mikleo before murmuring, “He may be able to change your mind yet.” He then gave Mikleo a wink before disappearing back in the crowd to cause a ruckus as was his job. 

Mikleo watched him leave with a confused expression on his face, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to face the Lord of Misrule again who gave him a sheepish grin. Apparently, the man was more stubborn than Mikleo thought. “If you will not dance, how would you rather spend your time?” he asked with a familiar tilt of the head as he eyed Mikleo patiently.

Mikleo found himself staring into the other man’s eyes, mind taking a moment to catch up, so entranced was he by how much this mysterious figure reminded him of his best friend. He studied the other man and realized that the unruly hair, the feathers dangling from his ears, and the inquisitive gaze all soundly reminded him of the Shephard. Suddenly, the queen’s insistence at his attendance, Edna’s vague comments, Zaveid’s pointed message began to circle in his mind. He looked past the Lord of Misrule and saw Lailah standing nearby in the ballroom, watching them anxiously from behind her ornate fan which she was using to cover her face in an attempt not to give things away with her expression. However, her eyes were more than enough. Mikleo’s gaze snapped back to the Lord’s face, and he began to realize just why the man in front of him seemed so familiar. Green eyes gazed hopefully back at him, and the Lord of Misrule appeared to be holding his breath in anticipation. Mikleo’s eyes finally softened as mistrust faded away.

“A dance may not be so bad after all,” he admitted, and a brilliant smile suddenly crossed the other man’s face. Mikleo felt his cheeks flush while his stomach clenched in nervous anticipation as the Lord of Misrule offered him his hand. Behind them, music began to start up in the ballroom for the next dance, and as Mikleo accepted the hand of the Lord he was whisked out onto the dance floor, the both of them twirling around in the lively dance as they grew lost in each other’s eyes. Mikleo’s heart was racing in a way it hadn’t for years, and he felt himself drinking in every detail about his dance partner, wondering why it had taken him so long to accept the truth of who it was. Even though it had been centuries, everything about his build, his touch, his warmth was intimately familiar to Mikleo. The Lord of Misrule appeared to be doing the same, although his eyes were more appraising to the changes that had occurred to Mikleo over the years. He had grown in both size and confidence and had lost the timid awkwardness that would sometimes come out around strangers. He still wasn’t as friendly as some of his other friends, but it was by choice and not by shyness. 

“You dance wonderfully,” the Lord said, leaning forward so his breath tickled Mikleo’s ear. Mikleo rolled his eyes, wondering why his partner was continuing this charade but deciding to play along for his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be out entertaining the crowd?” he asked blandly, although he gave his companion a coy glance as he spoke. The other man looked bemused.

“The Lord gets to do whatever he wants, as you pointed out earlier,” he replied. “And I happen to want to spend the evening with you.” He said it so earnestly, that Mikleo couldn’t help but blush due to how straightforward he was being.

“Well, you were kind enough to allow me the choice,” he replied with a tilt of his head. “I suppose I can continue to appease you.”

“Is that all it is?” the Lord asked, eyebrow raised. Mikleo grinned at him, surprising him by dipping him down at the end of the song although the Lord earlier had been leading in the dance. The Lord gave him a flustered look as Mikleo stared down at him, and a light chuckle escaped his lips.

“Surprised?” he teased, before standing back up. Mikleo had grown over the years, and was now closer to the other man’s height than he had ever been before. Frustratingly, he still appeared to be slightly shorter.

“A little,” the Lord replied honestly. They ended up taking a break to chat and eat, the thought of leaving early or visiting with other friends completely slipping Mikleo’s mind as he found himself drawn in by his companion. It was somehow fun, pretending to not know each other, almost like they were relearning each other. In a way, it had been so long, they almost were. When it was getting closer to midnight, which was the official close of the masquerade, the Lord of Misrule asked Mikleo for another dance, and this time he accepted immediately.

As Mikleo was swept into his partner’s arms, he allowed himself to get lost in the music and the movement, while wondering if this whole evening was some wonderful dream he would soon wake up from. As the music finally began to slow, the ballroom quieted as the dancing came to an end. The Lord of Misrule and Mikleo ended up stopping next to an alcove, and Mikleo glanced up to realize the Lord had purposefully brought them to end their dance under a sprig of mistletoe. Mikleo gave him a small frown, while his partner shyly smiled in return. The clock in the great hall struck midnight, announcing the end of the Twelfth Night and the end to the masquerade. Mikleo and his companion, no longer the Lord of Misrule, slid off their masks, before facing each other. Mikleo’s heart skipped a beat as he found himself looking at the unmistakable face of the person he had been yearning to see for hundreds of years; he had been right. It was Sorey.

Mikleo felt tears well up in his eyes, so overwhelmed was he at finally seeing Sorey awake after all of this time, and his best friend wiped away at the tears with his thumbs while looking at Mikleo worriedly. “Is everything ok?” he asked hesitantly, and Mikleo nodded with a short laugh.

“Now that you’re finally back,” he replied, before reaching forward to cup Sorey’s face in his palms. “I can’t believe this is real.” Now that Sorey knew Mikleo wasn’t actually upset, he gave him a heartfelt smile.

“I’m back,” he agreed, leaning into Mikleo’s touch. Mikleo no longer had to reach up to do what he did next, which was swiftly move forward to capture Sorey’s lips with his own. The former Shephard was surprised by the sudden turn of events, no doubt expecting to be the one to initiate the action, but he quickly returned the favor, obviously happy with the outcome. Around them, their friends and other patrons of the ballroom began to clap for them, and Mikleo could distinctly hear the sound of Zaveid whistling at them from nearby. He let out a small huff, confusing Sorey who almost pulled away, probably thinking it was directed at him until Mikleo pulled him back in for another kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Sorey was flushed in embarrassment as he suddenly seemed to realize they had an audience. Although he was flustered, he seemed happy, and Mikleo couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at how cute he looked. “Since the masquerade is over…why don’t we retire for the night?” Mikleo asked before offering Sorey his hand.

Sorey looked surprisingly shy as he accepted it, and Mikleo gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Zaveid gave them both a huge thumbs up, and next to him Lailah was grinning at them while tapping her fan against her cheek as Enda pretended to look unimpressed. Sorey waved at them cheerfully before following Mikleo out of the ballroom and down the hall toward the guest rooms. Once they were far enough away from the crowd, Mikleo stopped before turning to face Sorey. The other man tilted his head as he waited, obviously curious but waiting for Mikleo to act. Mikleo brought Sorey’s hand up to his lips and gently pressed them against his knuckles.

Sorey bashfully rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “What was that for?” he asked, before lacing their fingers together. It was Mikleo’s turn to look a bit bashful as he looked away.

“I missed you,” he replied simply, and he felt a sudden warmth against his back as Sorey wrapped his free arm around Mikleo’s waist before resting his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he said softly, and Mikleo shook his head.

“You did the right thing. You made your dream – our dream – a reality,” Mikleo said, referring to the fact that humans and seraphim could now interact and lived peacefully together. Sorey nodded in response, and a brief flicker of relief mixed with pride crossed his face.

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed. “Are you still willing to fulfill my other wish?” he asked hopefully.

Mikleo briefly considered teasing Sorey, but he looked so earnest that he didn’t have the heart to. He pulled himself away so he could face him. “Of course,” he said, gently pressing his hand against Sorey’s face. “I have so many places to show you.” They shared a long, lingering look, full of trust and longing from all the time they had been apart. Mikleo then broke the moment by adding, “And I can finally put to rest some of our long-held arguments now that I have visited many of the places mentioned in the Celestial Record.”

“Oh? Are you saying I was proven right?” Sorey asked, a fire alighting in his eyes at their old banter.

“We will just have to see, now won’t we?” Mikleo asked, before leading the way again toward their room. Along the way they fell back into comfortable antics, bickering over whose interpretation of history was right while enjoying each other’s company. For the first time in a long while, Mikleo felt his heart was whole again, and he smiled a his best friend while the other animatedly talked. This masquerade turned out to not be so bad after all.


End file.
